


Kill the lights

by Aaren



Series: Family vacations! [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Batfamily Feels, Brotherly Bonded, But fix things on the way, Conflict evolution, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Magic, Psychological Warfare, Snark, Surviving on coffee, Suturing, The grand tale of two idiots trying to fool their Dad, They fail lamentably, but they talk about it, nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14959100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaren/pseuds/Aaren
Summary: In a family like theirs, privacy was but an illusion.Tim was maybe slightly in over his head with the entire situation, but that was fine. He was sure he could use this to his advantage.If only he could get Jason to cooperate.





	Kill the lights

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone and welcome back ! 
> 
> I hope you're all doing well. 
> 
> In which I continue to write tooth rotting fluff to make me feel better, while Tim and Jason argue with me every step of the way.
> 
> This fic title: "Kill the lights" is a song by Set It Off. And is very, very Jason to Bruce.

Jason dropped on one of the medical cots of the Batcave exhausted beyond belief. 

They had spent the last thirty-six hours trying to derail another mad scheme of the Joker. 

And sure, _this time_ they'd managed. This time there hadn’t been any casualties. 

But it had been a near thing. And with the Joker, one could never know if his next move was going to be insane, horrific torture or soap bubbles drifting harmlessly past his victim’s face.

Sometimes, there was no dilemma and the bubbles were made of acid.

And yet, Bruce wouldn’t listen. While Jason was past the ‘killing is the only solution to all of Gotham’s problems’ ideology (Hell was even past needing the fucker dead to prove Bruce cared. Their relationship had since been through too much, good and bad, for that to be the proof he needed.), this was the _Joker_. No asylum could keep him for long, particularly not Gotham’s corrupt ones. 

And he never stopped.

Jason wasn’t an angel. He'd done plenty of things he regretted. Done even more he didn’t. He'd done his fair share of ugly things, because sometimes they were necessary.

So, no the fact that Bruce wouldn’t listen didn’t keep Jason from trying. Not about this. Not on nights like this one.

“So ? What happens next ? He lives and frees himself again. And then what ?” he stood back up and walked until he was aggressively in Bruce’s space, laughing bitterly “Are you to be two stubborn asses locked in an epic battle until Judgment Day and trumpets sound?”

Batman hummed.

“Or he could surrender. ”

Jason gaped. 

“You– I'm trying to have a conversation here, jackass!” 

Bruce looked at him, deadly calm and serious under the cowl. 

“Then you should not quote pirates movies at me.” 

Raising his hands up in disgust, Jason moved to stalk out of the Cave. 

“Jay. You know I won’t. ” 

He stopped and whirled around. At some point in the last few seconds, Bruce had taken the cowl off. Maybe he thought having it off would help keep the situation more under control. He tended to be calmer when faced with Bruce than when faced with Batman and the bastard knew it. He looked exhausted, deep purple circles framing his eyes and a small cut bleeding freely on his jaw. Jason knew he probably didn’t look much better.

He also was perfectly aware that talking about this would only lead to arguing. Again. 

Having spent the last day and a half fighting the Joker, A-fucking-gain, he found that he really didn’t mind.

“Fine. You don’t have to. I'll do it.” 

“Don’t. We don’t kill. ” 

Those were steps they’d danced a thousand times before. Again and again and again until they were both carved into their memories and all blurring together, the roles they had to take almost automatic after all these years. 

Sometimes reopening old wounds felt satisfying in the worst possible way. Even when you knew it would result in nothing more than having to scar all over again. 

Sometimes you just wanted to call the other out on their _utter bullshit_ , especially if it hurt.

Even when you knew you were both wrong.

“Why? What are you gonna do to stop me?” he laughed “ You could always throw me back in Arkham with all the others lunatics. I could have a nice little padded cell just right next to my murderer's, how about that? ” 

Bruce flinched. Silence. Jason realised he was yelling.

“Oh, wait. That’s been done before. Because that’s what I am to you, right? Another loved one turned insane killer. Just like Dent.” 

“You’re not insane.” 

“ And you're a fucking hypocrite. You have no problem working with Hawkgirl. Or any other hero that kills. But I want to take care of the problem, and suddenly, I'm a monster? ”

He took a deep breath. 

“But I guess it's different when it's your own personal failure.”

And now Bruce was staring at him. He almost looked startled. If that was even possible for him to be. 

“You’re not a failure either. I never th–” 

“Really?” he gestured to the case that held the remnants of his Robin uniform. “Evidence suggests you think otherwise.” 

Bruce's eyes stayed a moment too long on the case, something unsettling lurking in them. 

Jason snorted. 

“Not even going to deny it, then? ”

“You are not a failure. I never thought you were. ” he repeated.

It would have been more convincing if it wasn’t spoken too late and through gritted teeth. He was still staring at the case.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel like hearing the same old platitudes all over again.

“Right. Try looking me in the eye next time and I might actually believe you. I'm out of here. ”

Bruce turned and raised a hand, but let it drop back down almost immediately. Jason stormed to his bike, exhaustion and misery mixing with rage in his chest. 

“Jason.”

“Don’t worry. I'm not going out on an insane killing spree. Your precious city's safe. ” 

“That’s not what–” 

Bruce still looked mostly calm, his voice not even raised.

Feeling that bad over such a small spat was stupid. Jason had borne witness to truly bad arguments plenty of times when he was a child and this wasn’t it. In real bad arguments, like the one his mom and dad used to have, glass flew in tandem with insults and blood was spit out with curses. In real bad arguments, he either grew so still and quiet as he tried to hide that the very air around him seemed more alive than he was or he grew as big as he could, and bit and put himself between the danger and his mom. 

After real bad arguments, he nursed his wounds alone through crying and his mom nursed hers through flying. After real bad arguments, he promised himself he'd never, ever become that when he grew angry. And he hated and he loved and he couldn’t stop feeling, the emotions chocking him, sliding down his throat until he finally managed to swallow them down and get back up. 

This wasn’t even remotely on the same scale as that. Bruce didn’t yell and didn’t throw glass or insults. He didn’t take his anger out on him or anyone else. He didn’t hit and didn’t curse. 

No, Bruce just looked cold when he was angry, and somehow his disappointment always managed to hurt a hundred times worse than Willis Todd's fiery rage ever had. 

But Jason knew he only had himself to blame. He'd started the entire thing hadn't he? 

“No promises if I see the Joker, though. ” 

He started his bike, skidding out of the Cave and past a bewildered looking Tim. Red Robin had been on a mission in Peru for the past week and probably had no idea what had reopened that particular argument. 

They’d managed not to argue about it for the past few months. A new record. 

The fresh night's air hit his face and he coaxed his bike into going faster. 

And faster. 

And faster. 

He was pretty sure he'd passed a cop car at some point. They made no move to stop him. He hadn’t yet met a cop other than Gordon or Montoya who'd have the balls to try and stop the Red Hood two on one. Especially not for speeding.

He would very much like to see one try. 

He only allowed himself to slow down once he entered the Bowery and nearly hit a wall in a botched attempt to take a turn. 

Patrolling when he was this exhausted was a terrible idea, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

Good thing for some people, bad thing for some newly perforated pieces of garbage. 

He made sure they all stayed alive, Bruce's disappointed face still lurking in the back of his mind. 

It was another three and a half hour before he allowed himself to go rest and dropped on his bed, body covered in bruises and knuckles stinging. 

 

–––––––

 

He woke up to the sound of a doorbell ringing and it took him a second to realise it was his. Up until that moment, he hadn’t even known he had a doorbell. It wasn’t exactly like he entertained guests often. 

Jason got up, drew his gun and pulled up the hallway's camera's feed. 

Opening a front door without checking who or what was on the other side of it was something no one in the family would ever do again. Something, not a mistake. A mistake implied it had been Bab's fault and he wasn’t fond of blaming the sufferer.

Unlike some people.

Checking through the peephole was just asking to lose an eye. Or worse.

The skull was such a fragile little piece of anatomy. 

The ringing began sounding suspiciously like “Jingle Bells “ and he groaned. 

He flung the door open to find Roy Harper, grin and trucker hat firmly in place, a plastic bag dangling from one hand, the other still hovering over the doorbell. 

“What.” he growled out.

Roy walked past him and to the kitchen, making himself right at home in Jason's safehouse. 

“You look like shit, Jaybird.” The redhead said cheerfully. 

He could hear the clangs and sounds of various drawers opening as he took his time to close and lock the door before following his friend in the other room

“Thanks. You too. ” he deadpanned “To what do I owe the dubious pleasure? ” 

Roy turned around as he entered, lifting the bag and dangling it in front of Jason’s face. 

Proudly. “I brought food.” 

“That really doesn’t answer my question. ” 

He took it anyway. 

“ What, can’t a guy visit another guy without having his motives questioned ? Mean.” 

Jason rolled his eyes fondly and started taking containers of food out of the bag, the few hours of sleep he'd managed to grab and Roy's overall Royness gradually helping lift his mood. He managed to put two on the table before his hand butted on a wrench and two explosives arrows. 

“Roy. We've talked about this. ” 

His friend looked up from where he had started fiddling with the safehouse's microwave. Jason made a mental note to buy a new one soon. 

Better safe than sorry.

“Mmh? ”

“Explosives. In our food. We’ve talked about this. ” 

There was a sheepish laugh. 

“Sorry man! Got a bit distracted on the way here. ” 

The corner of Jason's mouth twitched. He took a plate and a fork and walked to the living room where he flopped down on the couch. 

Roy followed, holding the microwave with his plate piled precariously on top of it. He was looking at Jason, a speculative glint in his eyes. Just visiting, yeah right. And Bruce actually _'just visited'_ the Lantern Corps every other Tuesday for tea and sappy romance movies. 

“Soooo–” Faux-casual tone of voice and everything. 'Just visiting'. Of course.“–how're you holding up? ” 

“Holding up? ” He shovelled some rice in his mouth. The question was legitimate, as Roy had no way of knowing about his fight with Bruce.

“You... Haven’t seen the news yet, have you? ” 

Was that a wince? Jason slowly put his fork down, food barely touched. He hadn’t been that hungry in the first place, anyway.

“I literally just woke up. ” 

That was definitely a wince. Great. What now. 

“It’s kinda been making the news since morning.”

“Yeah, well, I'm nocturnal. What's going on? ”

Roy set the gutted microwave aside and pulled up on article on his phone then slid it over to Jason. 

He stared at it, dumbfounded.

> **_' Actual photo of Damian Wayne laughing! (No Photoshop)'_ by AlexSocio**
> 
> **Read all 7784 Comments**
> 
>   * **FastestDorkAlive:** _@Zitkaforever41940_
>   * **Zitkaforever41940:** so cute!  <3 
>     * **Coffeeandspite90:** I think creepy's the word you're looking for.
>   * **grinarrowsuks:** WTF? Obvius phtoshop. demons don't smile. 
>   * **SCapes:** what!! so cool! where did you take this?
>     * **AlexSocio:** Vancouver’s airport.
>   * **DiWW:** _@Batman_ I believe you may want to see this. 
>   * **WainesForevee09:** Daaaamn. Whose the hottie laughing next to him? (for once, I’m not only talking about Cassandra *-,* )
>     * **ZzzzzukoO:** is it just me or does he look an awful lot like Jason Todd? 
>       * **WainesForevee09:** hOLY FKUCING SHTI HE DOES!?!!!
>         * **ZzzzzukoO:** I ain’t saying there's something fishy going on and Jason Todd's alive but.... theres something fishy and Jason's Todd alive. 
>           * **Batman:** Take your tin foil hat off for a minute and think about the Waynes’ loss. This is not the kind of thing you joke about. 
>             * **Kryptonighte:** Now, now, there's no need to be insulting. Maybe some competent members of the press could shed some light on the situation? Bruce Wayne's affairs do always seem far too clean to be honest. ;) _@LoisLaneOfficial @VictoriaValeOfficial_
>       * **AlexSocio:** Bruce Wayne did call him Jason in front of me ...
>       * **grinarrowsuks:** _@2ILivedBitch_
>         * **xXGreenArrowLuvXx35:** How dARE YOU you fucking degenerate?! GA and Arsenal are the two best damn superheroes out there
>   * **MilnipWooserloop:** _@Zitkaforever41940 @OneTrueHeir_ dude! I honestly don’t know if that’s cute or terrifying 
>   * **K-Oan:** What can I keep after giving it to someone? 
>   * **TheBoosterxoXo:** _{Comment Deleted}_
> 


He wondered for a second if Damian was doing okay. The kid couldn’t even laugh in public without being mocked for it on the internet. That had to sting. 

Then it hit him. Someone had recognised him. This could be bad. This could be really really bad. This could be hanging a potential media shitstorm right over his head kind of bad and he did _not_ need that in his life. Not now, not ever.

“Fucking hell. ” 

“Yeah.” Roy looked sympathetic. He was dismantling the microwave again. “That's how I thought you’d react.” 

“It’s just some wild speculation on the internet. It could die down. ” 

What could he say, he was an optimist. 

Not. 

“It could have. Buuut ... there's Vicki Vale. ” 

He closed his eyes. 

“Don’t tell me. ” 

“Yeah. She's latched onto this for some reason. She wants Bruce Wayne investigated and she's pointed out some suspicious things about your death. It didn’t help.” 

Jason sighed. 

“She’s relentless about this because she believes Bruce's Batman and she's decided to prove it. It's been like this for years.”

Suddenly, he was furious, the tight feeling from this morning coming back to grip his heart with a vengeance. 

“And that fucking asshole's using it. He's trying get me back where he can control me. ”

“Jay...” 

“ Please. Like he couldn’t have shut this down already if he wanted to. _‘ Think about their grief_ ' ? You really think that's the best he can come up with? He’s the goddamned Batman! ” 

A pause. Then Roy was shrugging. 

“Can’t argue with that. ” He got up and started rummaging in the bag. “Still, maybe it's not what you think. ” 

Right. Because Saint Batman never manipulated anyone. He glared silently at his friend.

“Don’t make that face at me. Of course he's got a plan, I'm just saying it's probably not as bad as you think it is. ” 

Jason scowled and crossed his arms. 

“I thought you of all people would understand. ” 

“Low blow, dude.” Jason winced, already regretting the words “And yeah I do. Just... ” a sigh “ I’ve never seen you as happy as you've been this last few months. So I’m worried about this. I don’t want it to ruin that for you.” 

Oh. 

Roy Harper was one of the best people he knew, no matter what said man believed of himself.

Jason looked away for a second then shook himself out of it. He tried to think of an adequate response. 

“ Are you getting sappy on me? ” 

“You’re an asshole, Jay.” 

He smirked at his friend, half-sheepish, half-teasing. 

“Because you aren’t? ” 

Roy visibly considered this for a moment, studying his face, before conceding. He sat back down and pointed his chopsticks in Jason’s direction.

“True. Got get dessert, we can at least be well-fed assholes. ” 

His smirk grew slightly wider, safe in the knowledge that he was forgiven. He leaned back more comfortably in the couch and tilted his head to the side. 

“This is a new safehouse. Dessert’s not exactly my priority when furnishing them. ”

Roy lazily threw a balled up napkin at him. It hit him square in the middle of the forehead. Asshole.

“Check your freezer. ” 

Jason gathered the barely touched food to put away for later and went to do just that. 

“You brought me ice cream ? ” he called out from behind the open freezer door. 

The impatience in his friend’s voice was audible when he answered. 

“Yep! Now get your ass back here, I've got some of Kori's weird shows up and running on your TV.” 

He took a tub out of the freezer and hollered back. 

“I ain’t broken hearted, Harper. ” 

Roy waited until he was back in the room to answer. He was leaning back on the couch and making grabby hands at the ice-cream. 

“Good for you. Give it here if you don’t want it.” 

Jason clutched his tub slightly closer to his chest. 

“Don’t you know? I was a street kid. I don’t waste food. ” 

The redhead rolled his eyes.

“Of course you were, Jaybird. ”

They got to watch about twenty minutes of one of Kori's shitty alien reality show before the forgotten microwave started sparked and set the nearby curtains on fire.

 

–––––––

 

Roy left later that night, having to go back to the Titans, so Jason was left staring at the remains of his destroyed living room as he started preparing for patrol. 

It was still early. For them anyway. Maybe he could just skip patrol and go to the Manor to tell Bruce exactly what he thought about this entire situation. 

A scowl made its way back on his face. 

A continuation of this morning's 'discussion' sounded perfect about now.

He startled when his doorbell rang for the second time that night. 

Wasn’t he just popular tonight? 

He quickly checked the feed and went to open the door, again, casually leaning against the doorway as he did so.

“Timbo. Came to greet the resident zombie ? ”

Tim opened his mouth to answer, then paused halfway through the movement, eyes slightly widening. He had a large bag casually slung over a shoulder. 

“Uh. You've got a –” 

He was vaguely gesturing to his upper arm. Jason looked down, puzzled.

“– thing” his little brother finished lamely.

Oh. He meant the hole in his t-shirt from the fire. The one that was still slightly fuming. With the first degree burns under it. And the cut from an earlier fight that had reopened in their mad dash around the couch. 

He waved a hand in a dismissing gesture. 

“Never mind that. What do you want ? ” 

“Can I come in ? ” 

“Sure ? ” He stepped aside and let Tim pass. He was probably the only family member who bothered with the door or waiting for an invitation to come in. If he didn’t have a reason not to, of course. 

Tim stepped in the apartment and stopped to stare for the second time that night. 

“Do I even want to know what happened ? ” 

Jason hummed thoughtfully, kicking the bag containing the remnants of his curtains aside. Little specs of ashes and soot flew up and scattered everywhere, the white-grey colour really complementing the dark scorch marks on the wall.

“I decided to try my hand at art. I call this one ‘Baby Jason in Ethiopia’. ”

Tim picked a charred pillow up disdainfully, wrinkling his nose.

“Still not funny, Jay. ” 

“We fought against my microwave's sudden need to kill us and almost lost. ” He deadpanned.

Tim tried scowling as he wrangled the pillow in a trash bag. It was a valiant effort but kinda looked wrong. Like an angry baby chicken. His face just wasn’t meant for it, but could still be vicious when necessary. 

“Fine, don't tell me if you don’t want to.” 

Well, Jason had tried. 

“Seriously ? ” 

He said nothing. 

Tim looked torn between scowling again or believing him. Which, really, said a lot of depressing things about their lives. 

“Who’s 'we'? ” he asked suspiciously. 

“Roy. ” 

“Ah.” he looked around, appeased. “ Well, I was going to ask if I could stay here tonight, but... ” 

“Nah, you can. I have another pull out couch in the study. Had a fight with someone in the rodent lover gang ? ” 

“ I didn’t, actually. I just wanted to spend some time here, after I saw the news. And I heard you and Bruce this morning. ” 

Tonight was getting absolutely too emotional for his comfort. 

“... Thanks, Tim. ” he said softly. 

Tim fidgeted a bit at being thanked. At least Jason wasn’t the only uncomfortable one.

“Don’t mention it. ” 

And that was more than fine by him.

“Want something to eat while I finish cleaning this mess up ? ” 

“You’re not patrolling? ” 

“Nah. I didn’t plan to. ” 

This was not a _complete_ lie. The only modification to his evening plans was that yelling at Bruce could be postponed until a more appropriate time. He was sure he'd have plenty of opportunities, the man could be a downright asshole when he wanted to.

Then again, so could Jason. He scowled, resisting the urge to look away. 

Tim frowned. 

“I’m fine. We should probably take care of your arm first, though. ”

Jason shrugged. When he thought something was important, the teenager could be like a dog with a bone. And he didn’t feel like arguing over something as small as this was tonight.

“Fine.” He led Tim to the study and gestured around. “Make yourself at home, I guess. ” 

He grabbed a quick change of clothes next door and started making his way to the bathroom, where most of his medical supplies were stored. Suturing sucked and the location of the wound would make it even more difficult and painful to take care of than, say, a calf wound. 

“Where are you going? ” 

He stopped and turned back around, looking at Tim quizzically.

“To take care of my arm? Like we literally just talked about? ” 

“Jason. This needs stitches. ” 

Well, yes. He was aware.

“I can see that? Can't say the same about your point, though.”

Tim tried scowling again. He really was too serious, sometimes. Kid needed to lighten up a bit or he'd die of stress before he hit twenty-five.

“I am not letting you stitch yourself up alone. ” 

“Why? I do it all the time.”

The scowl changed into a frown as he walked past Jason and into the bathroom. 

“Exactly. Come on. ” 

Jason still failed to see his point, but followed. Not without complaining, though. 

“I’m perfectly capable of doing my own damned stitches. I'm a grown ass man. ” 

Tim prepared the first aid kit and sanitized his hands. He looked about zero-percent convinced by Jason’s sound argument.

“A grown ass man who just nearly burned his apartment down. Sit down.” 

He stayed standing. He didn’t take orders from three feet tall pipsqueaks that invaded his apartment and threatened to poke him with needles. 

“Or don't, it's fine by me. I’m going to stitch you up either way.” 

Jason sat down. 

“You have terrible bedside manner. ” 

Tim smiled. It was a wide, sharp, scary thing with absolutely too much teeth in it. 

“I thought you were a grown ass man that could handle anything? ” 

Little brothers were a menace that existed specifically to spite innocent older siblings. As such, it was an older sibling’s duty to defend themselves. 

Jason's were a menace that existed to spite society as a whole, he was pretty sure.

They lapsed into silence as Tim finished preparing everything. It didn’t take very long. They were too used to it.

“I don't suppose you want painkillers? ” 

He gritted his teeth.

“No.”

Tim hummed but didn’t press the issue and sat behind him to begin working on his upper arm. There were another few minutes of silence during which they both concentrated on their respective task.

Jason’s being not making any sudden moves.

Just because he could easily take it didn’t mean anaesthetic-less suturing was an especially pleasant experience for anyone involved.

Tim was the one to break the silence again.

“I don't know what you and the Demon Brat were up to a few days ago, but thank you. He's been...more like his usual self since. ” 

Good to hear the Brat was once again torturing most of the Manor’s inhabitants.

“Careful there, Timbo. Someone might hear you and actually think you care. ” 

Their reflections shared a derisive smile in the bathroom's mirror. 

Caring too much had always been their biggest problem.

“Only because Dick was moping around trying to get him to tell what was wrong.” Jason snorted at the blatant lie. “ You should probably go see him soon, th– _Ouch!_ ” 

He turned around, ignoring the slight pull the action caused on the stitches in his arm. 

“You okay?” 

“Fine. I just pricked my finger.” 

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. 

“How? You're using holders.”

Tim finished taking care of his bleeding thumb as he answered.

“ My hand slipped. ” He started the entire sanitation process again even as he wrinkled his nose in disgust. “ This's been through your skin.” 

“Don’t believe everything Bruce tells you, I'm not rabid. Besides, we've been through way worse. And I've bled on you before.” 

“Just because that's true doesn’t make it any less gross. This’s been in you.” 

Jason had no _decent_ , innocent little brother-friendly response to that so he changed the subject as the suturing started back up. It didn’t do to piss off someone who was currently holding needles to your skin.

“Why do you think I should? ” 

He got a questioning glance in response. 

“Visit Damian soon-ish. Why do you think I should ? ” 

Tim finished suturing and tied his work up. He cut the excess thread off before answering. 

“ This situation only exists because of that photo. I think he's worried you're angry at him. Not that he'd ever admit it. ”

Well, that was stupid. He'd have to prove the Brat wrong. Or right. Depending on the state he was in and whether he had kept his promise or not. 

Jason stood up, slapped a sterile bandage over the wound to protect it and pulled a clean shirt on. 

“Thanks. ” 

“Welcome.” 

He went to clean the rest of the mess up, pausing to ruffle Tim's hair on his way out of the room. 

 

–––––––

 

Jason switched the vacuum cleaner off, looking around at his now not-a-disaster-zone apartment. 

He was finally, finally done with cleaning. 

He walked to the kitchen and tiredly slumped down on a chair, putting his forehead on the table. 

On his left, Tim startled out of the work trance he'd entered two hours ago. About ten minutes after finishing stitching Jason up, he'd pulled some sort of inscription covered golden cube from the bag he'd taken with him and had been engrossed in it ever since. Scattered in front of him were sheets of paper full of weird symbols and, on his left, a laptop was overheating under the sheer number of tabs he was forcing it to keep up with.

“Already done? ” 

He raised his head back up and sent him a murderous glare. 

“I’ve been at this for two hours.”

Tim stole a quick, disbelieving glance at his laptop's clock. 

Jason slumped back down. His arm stung something fierce. He figured he deserved a quick break.

“Watcha working on then ? ” he mumbled, face mushed in the tabletop. 

Tim perked up like a damned puppy. Eyes shining, ears metaphorically flopping and everything. 

“You know how we got a tip about a Kryptonite shipment in Peru last week? ” 

Officially, he really didn’t.

“Sure.” 

“Well, when we got there, this was being smuggled alongside with it. ” he gestured to the innocent-looking cube.“ And a clay tablet, but I've only got pictures of it with me. ”

Jason held a reasonable amount of caution against innocent looking people or things. They often turned out to be the worst out there. He looked at the cube distrustfully.

“What does it do?” 

“That’s just the thing! We don’t know yet.” Kid looked way too excited at the prospect of a challenge. “ Bruce and I have been testing it, but it hasn’t reacted to anything yet. ” 

“And he just let you take it out of the Cave? ” Jason asked dubiously.

He very much doubted that. Touching the thing was probably safe, however, as he'd seen the kid do it all night without loosing a finger. Yet. 

Tim casually ignored his question. 

“So, I figured it was safe enough to transport. I'm trying to translate these. I think it's a mix of ancient–” He dissolved into a long winded explanation on different ancient languages, how the glyphs could really have about a million different translations depending on context, how he was pretty sure those particular ones referred to a post-mortem soul judging ritual or maybe it was really just about the carver's desire to kill their neighbour for being a annoying, petty– 

“ Slow down for a sec, Daniel Jackson. ” Jason picked up the cube, examining it closely. Some of its parts could move. “ How are you sure you've got the right layout here? ” 

“I’m not. But none of the other possibilities did anything either. Here, let me sho–” 

The moment Tim's hand came in contact with the cube's surface, a deafening bang echoed in the room, startling the both of them.

Before he could react in any other way, however, Jason's vision went dark.

 

––––––––

 

Tim Drake was absolutely not freaking out. 

He was Red Robin. Had been Robin, Batman's partner, for a few years. He'd lived through horrible, desperate situations and made it out mostly intact. Had outsmarted Ra's Al-Ghul. Regularly fought various villains and criminals and won. He’d gotten Bruce out of the timestream. He'd been through much worse than this before and he was _not freaking out_.

Brothers that suddenly vanished in a bang and a burst of yellow light were sadly not that unusual in his life. 

He just needed to figure out what had happened then find a way to reverse it. No big deal. Perfectly feasible. All was under control. 

He looked at the cube. No visible change. 

This could be a teleportation device of some sort, maybe. If that was the case, could he move it for further testing or would doing so only risk making things worse? 

More importantly what had suddenly triggered it? He and Bruce had tried about every test they could think of and, up until now, it had amounted to absolutely nothing. 

_‘ Ooow. Fuck, my head.’_

Tim froze. 

“Jason? ” 

His older brother's voice echoed around the room, as sarcastic as ever. 

_‘ No, I’m obviously Spiderman. Could you possibly not shout? My head is killing me enough as it is.’_

“Jay, where are you?” He whirled around, eyes already scanning the room. It looked empty. 

When you knew Batman, you quickly learned that 'looked empty' really didn’t mean anything. Even when you put hiding in plain sight aside, there were still a thousand possibilities on how someone could be in a room unseen. 

Invisibility? Telepathy? Height modification? Non-corporeal? Parallel plane of existence? 

He hoped it wasn’t the last one. Those cases usually were trickier than most.

 _‘What the–’_

Tim scanned the room again, sparing a quick glance at the cube. Still no visible change.

“What? ” 

When he answered, Jason's voice was quiet. Him being quiet never bode well for anyone present. 

_‘Tim? Could you lift your right arm?’_

“What? Why? ” 

_‘Just do it.’_

He did. 

_‘ And put a hand in front of one eye ? ’_

He did that too, mind already whirring and churning out about a hundred different reasons on why Jason would ask him to do that.

 _‘Well. Fuck. ’_

That was always so reassuring to hear. 

“Would you please explain now? ” 

_‘Congratulations, Timmy. I appear to be the new voice of your conscience. ’_

All things carefully re-considered, could they please go back to the parallel plane of existence option. 

Tim suddenly saw a lot of translating in his near future.

“How can you be sure?” 

_‘ Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that my senses are all wrong, that I’m way closer to the ground than I normally am, that I can see what you see, or that this body is moving without me doing anything. Take your pick.’_

A whole lot of translating. 

“Do you have any idea what happened? Did you feel anything in particular or do something to the cube? ” 

_‘ No, I picked it up and then everything just went dark when you touched it.’_

Obviously the fact that they’ve both been in contact had played a part. But if that'd been the only requirement, Tim would have been in this situation with Kon or Bart since Peru. 

They needed to know how. But that could take a long time. Time during which they would potentially be vulnerable. 

So they needed to test their situation’s limits then adapt. 

The situation they were in was awful. 

It also was absolutely fascinating. 

_‘Ground control to orbiting spacecraft Red Robin, come in Red Robin.’_

For once it was more of a normal putting up with annoying older siblings kind of awful than their usual encounters with mankind's worst and lowest sides.

Tim was grateful for the change.

Sure, there was danger. Who knew where Jason's body was. Who knew how long Tim’s brain could take the strain. 

Who knew how long his mental health could take Jason.

In a family of misfits like theirs? Privacy was all but an illusion anyway.

Even if you forgot about the paranoia and the stalking, their lives didn’t tend to leave them the luxury of being body shy.

When you’d seen someone recovering from a combined attack from Joker and Crane, not much about their bodily functions could shock you anymore. 

Even if it was still gross.

The more Tim thought about the entire situation, the less dread he felt.

They were going to test this. Extensively. Then, they were going to see how exactly they could use this to their advantage. 

_‘ Damian told me yesterday he was planning on using Dick as a sacrifice in a magical ritual so that he’d finally stop being such a shrimp. He wanted to know if you'd be interested in joining him.’_

Tim could already see at least five different uses to this situation. Granted, most were about mending the relationships between Jason and the family and not, say, defeat the latest supervillain. But that could have some long term applications too in defeating said supervillain. 

And the amount of brooding he’d be subjected to would see a net decrease, which would in turn greatly facilitate his life. 

Maybe he could use Jason as a information source. He'd just have to limit the quantity of blackmail material he'd inevitably give his older brother. And try to find a solution to their situation as soon as possible so that he'd be able to use it on a moment’s notice. 

_‘ Timbo. Timmy. Timeo. Timp the imp. Timotheo. Timmers. Timminy cricket. Tiny Tim. Timon. Baby bird.’_

As annoying as the twenty-two years old could be, he'd be lying if he said he didn’t want to see Jason around the Manor more, too.

All in all, this was the kind of opportunity one was rarely presented with, and Tim didn’t intend on letting it go. 

He'd just have to plan carefully. Very carefully. No member of their family was dumb or unobservant. Sneaking something like this past Jason and Bruce.... Would be quite the challenge.

Something resembling joy began bubbling in Tim's chest. 

_‘ Oh, for fuck's sake– TIM! ’_

He startled out of his reverie at the shout, staff automatically in his hands and up defensively. 

_‘Finally!’_

“Sorry! I was thinking about how to–” best fix everyone’s problems by manipulating half the family “–get you out of here.”

 _‘ Right. How do we fix this?’_

Jason obviously didn’t believe his excuse. That was alright. He had nothing more than a vague suspicion to go on. They couldn’t read each other's thoughts or he'd have reacted earlier and much more explosively. 

“I don’t know yet. Maybe reversing the process could work but then you’d obviously need to be there and we don’t what happened to your body. Yet. I need to translate the cube and the tablet. Could you come up with a series of tests for us to do so that we know what we can or cannot do and our limits? You're better at finding something's weak and strong points.”

Tim was good at coming up with a working plan to use said points. Jason was excellent at finding them quickly.

But first, before he could use it, finding a solution to this. He wasn’t an idiot and it was still potentially dangerous.

Jason sounded pleased when he answered. 

_‘Sure thing, Timbo. ’_

They worked on their respective tasks for the next two hours, Jason sometimes deviating from his to help -or hinder, depending on how you looked at it– him with translating. 

After yet another ten minutes spent staring uselessly at the same glyph, however, he allowed himself to stop, stood up and stretched. 

“So I've got bad news and worse news. Ready to start the debriefing?” 

_‘I'm all ears. ’_

Tim frowned, looking at his notes. 

“Despite your less than helpful suggestions on some terms' meanings, I think I understand what got us in this mess.”

He still had part of the tablet and most of the cube to translate. There were things he could be missing. 

“This was supposed to mind switch us. It's fairly standard if a bit more barbaric than what we've seen before. To make it work you're supposed to first 'allow the communion of the blood ’ with someone which I'm taking to mean as sharing blood as some sort of DNA exchange, then both touch the machine with–and I'm paraphrasing here– the wounded area. ” 

_‘Which is why it happened when your thumb touched it. But we didn’t exactly “exchange” blood.’_

He wrinkled his nose. 

“Right. The exchange wasn’t completed. Only one of us got the other’s blood. According to the tablet, the cube shouldn’t work in these circumstances. But it is also more than 1300 years old. I think it's working wonderfully for something that old, don't you? ” 

_‘Yes, Tim, it’s just great. So, the damned thing malfunctions and I'm stuck in your head. You stay in your own body. How is it supposed to be reversed ? ’_

He ran a hand tiredly over his face and through his hair. 

“Normally to reverse it, you've got to do the exact same thing. Exchange of blood, touch the device and you're good to go. ” 

_‘ But we don't have any idea where I am.’_

Tim sighed. That about summed it up, yes. 

“We don’t. And that's about as far as I got. I can't seem to manage translating the next column. What did you come up with ?” 

_‘ So many ghost jokes I am not making right now.’_

Of course he did. 

“Duly noted and appreciated. ” he rolled his eyes. “What else ? ”

 _‘ I literally saw that, you brat. ’_

This body sharing thing would take some getting used to.

When he spoke again, Jason’s voice was much more serious and quiet. It was the kind of voice that demanded attention, the kind they used when they were out helping people and encountered something particularly important. It drained all levity from the room. 

_‘As for what tests I came up with, it all depends what you're willing to test. Because I could potentially take control, I think.’_

The thought was sobering. Clear, absolute, freely given consent had always been important to Jason. The Red Hood always, always at best beat the _shit_ out of the rapists and traffickers. Tim didn’t like to think as to why. 

The streets weren’t easy to survive in and they certainly weren’t safe. Particularly not Gotham’s, particularly not for a child. 

And having your body taken over, being forced to follow someone’s orders when everything inside you screamed and begged a clear resounding no was a special kind of hell no one should have to go through. 

Tim took a deep breath.

“ Jason. If at any moment, for any reason you want or have to be the one to take over, I give you my explicit permission to. ” He paused. “God, I sound like I'm offering you to top, don’t I? ”

The thick, suffocating atmosphere of tension that had started to fill the room as Jason waited for him to answer popped like a stabbed balloon.

An amused snort. 

_‘ You really do. ’_

“This is not what this is or what I meant. ” 

_‘I know, Tim. ’_

“ I don’t think of you that way. ” 

Even more amused. _‘I know, Tim ’_

“I think of you as my brother. ”

 _‘ If you ever get tired of digging yourself into that hole, I hear there’s a perfectly good vacant spot in Gotham cemetery. ’_

Tim stared blankly at the wall, cursing himself in his head. This was precisely the kind of awkward moment that would keep him up on a random night ten years down the road. That was fine, he didn’t need sleep that much anyway. He'd done without before. 

_‘ Hey, kid, I'm just teasing you. Don’t check out on me again. ’_

“Right. Sorry. I was serious, though. ” 

He could almost feel Jason hesitating. 

_‘You sure ? That’s a lot of trust to put in me. ’_

It was. Especially considering their history. They'd come a long way since Jason’s return from the dead. Tim nodded, voice firm. 

“I’m sure. ”

A pause. 

_‘ Okay. Then I've only got one last question before we start. Do you plan on telling Bruce or the others? ’_

“No!” 

_‘...That was surprisingly vehement. ’_

“And have them look at me like I'm crazy again? No thank you. ” 

It hard hurt enough last time. Even though he'd been right and Dick had apologized once they'd gotten Bruce out of the timestream. 

_‘I don't think they would, you know. As shitty of an excuse it is, those were special circumstances. ’_

“I had proof back then! And Dick could have just trusted me. ” 

His being forced to quit as Robin was a wound that had never quite healed. So no, Tim didn’t especially want to tell them as long as he had the situation in control. 

That all his plans would be ruined if Bruce knew what had happened was mostly irrelevant. 

“Why, do you want to tell them? ” 

_‘No!’_

“Then tell me what tests you've thought of and let's get to work. ” 

_‘Well, it's not only tests. If I'm going to be piloting this meatsuit, we should probably train, too. We have very different fighting styles.’_

Meatsuit. What a lovely name to call him by. Thank you Jason. 

He made a very good point about the training, however. 

_‘Can I? ’_

“Go ahead. ” 

Switching was surreal. Tim felt himself being pulled deeper in his mind, and suddenly it was like there was a filter between him and the world. He could still see, hear and feel everything, but his body moved without his control as he felt Jason's consciousness push past him and to the forefront of...his mind, he guessed. 

Jason wasn’t going to lie, being back behind the driving wheel was a relief. 

He tried to take a step, legs trembling like a new-born fawn. 

Proprioception was a bitch.

He face planted halfway through the motion. 

Motor control was, too.

 

––––––––

 

 **_Thud_ **

“Ow. For fuck's sake! ” 

_' Don't worry. It's only been an hour. You'll get the hang of it, eventually.’_

“Shut it. ” 

_‘What ? It’s true. And technically, I'm the one getting the possible concussion here. ’_

 

–––––––

 

They made it to the Manor around midday, having spent the second half of the night and most of the morning training, learning as much as they could about what they could do. 

They'd had a brief argument about actually staying in the apartment or coming back, but Tim had raised the very solid point that him not going back to the Manor would be unusual, which would in turn immediately make the others suspicious and endanger their situation. 

Neither of them wanted that, so Jason had relented, begrudgingly agreeing. 

They didn’t even make it past the entryway before encountering a tired looking Bruce. 

He was sitting on the front steps, holding a cup of coffee he was occasionally taking sips from and looking out at the sunlight splattered grounds. 

“Welcome home, Tim. ” 

“Thank you. ” 

_‘Act natural! ’_

Act natural? Tim felt all naturalness immediately start trickling between his fingers like fine sand, disappearing out of his reach and into nothingness, every last grain of it swallowed by the great chasm of anxiety that had suddenly opened in his stomach at the words.

He'd have been perfectly fine without Jason’s comment, but now he couldn’t concentrate on anything else. He stiffened. 

And Bruce was still looking at him. 

“Bruce ? Are you alright ? ” he asked tentatively, as naturally as was now possible for him. Thanks, Jason. 

“I’m fine. ” He really wasn’t, though. Tim knew the signs. Tim had based his entire Robin carrier on knowing the signs. His voice was stern when he continued. “ We missed you last night. ” 

He reminded himself that Bruce was just bad with words and feelings and that he really didn’t mean it to be as accusing as it sounded. He probably just wanted to know about Jason and didn’t know how to start the conversation. 

Tim didn’t have any illusions about Bruce not knowing where he'd gone. 

“Sorry. I paid Jay a visit after I saw the news and ended up helping him with something. ” 

With all that had happened since, Tim had almost forgotten about that. 

But he could make an educated guess as to what kind of opportunity the news presented to his father figure. 

“How did he react? ” 

_‘Badly. ’_

“Badly. ” he repeated without thinking. 

He immediately wished he could take the small, seemingly innocent word back, as Bruce's face blanked and he stood up, movements too controlled and deliberate. 

“Ah. ” he sighed. “ Well, I'm glad he's let you in at least. Thank you for looking after your brother. ” he turned stiffly “ I'll be downstairs if you need me. ” 

He disappeared in the Manor. Tim watched him go, resisting the urge to blurt out everything. 

Jason was being suspiciously silent. 

“What?”

 _‘ Nothing, it’s just– He looked sad. ’_

He sounded puzzled over the fact. 

“ Jason. You two had a fight and you're supposedly refusing to see him. ” 

_‘ Yeah, okay, so maybe he’s not about to skip around the Manor. But I was expecting him to be pissed, not ...that. ’_

Tim walked down the corridor leading to his bedroom. If anyone saw or heard him talking to thin air, he could simply use the comm or phone excuse, but better not to arouse suspicions too early anyway. He entered the room, took the time to carefully close the door and sat on his bed. 

He should probably stop there. Before he alienated his brother more or said something stupid that would make the situation irreparable. 

But, as far back as he could remember, his one motivation had always been helping people and he'd never been very good at stopping himself, no matter the consequences.

Especially when it came to helping Bruce Wayne.

“You’ve never seen him in the aftermaths of your fights.” Tim realised. “ Believe it or not, he misses you. And it would mean the world to him if you did something to prove you do too. ” 

_‘ Just because it hurts his feelings doesn’t mean I have to. I gave him a chance. I gave him plenty of chances. He made his choices. And he made it very clear what he thought of me.’_

“He loves you! ” 

_‘Let it go, Tim.’_ if Jason currently had teeth, they’d be gritted. 

“No.” Tim scowled. “ I’m done with watching the two of you destroy each other. Especially if I'm going to be stuck in the middle of it. He loves you. And you obviously do too or you wouldn’t be that hurt.” 

One good thing about being stuck in the same head was that Jason couldn’t escape the conversation.

 _‘ He loves an imaginary version of me. His obedient little soldier. Well, tough shit, I'm not that. I never was. Me? Me he doesn’t give a damn about. If he did, there are things he wouldn’t have done. ’_

“Like what?” 

No answer.

Fine. Fair enough. Some things were none of his business, he knew that. 

But some things... Some things he could fix. 

Tim got back up and started walking. 

_‘ And I don’t have to forgive him for them. ’_ Absolutely true. But seeing as they’d been trying to fix things the last few months, he at least was willing to try. 

They were too stubborn and too similar. Jason needed Bruce to make the first step towards reconciliation. Except some steps Bruce couldn’t make and others he didn’t feel were his place to make anymore so the two stubborn idiots were at a standstill.

Maybe they just needed some help. Luckily for them, Tim was good at small, calculated pushes. 

He also was very good at violent, calculated shoves. 

In his head, Jason was still ranting. He mostly tuned him out as he got out of the Manor and entered the old tool-shed. 

He cast a quick look around, eyes passing over old bicycles and various sport equipment. Where were the–? 

Ah, there!

He picked two baseball bats, closed the door and started walking back towards the Manor. 

Jason had finally shut up, choosing to brood and silently observe his actions instead of ranting. 

He walked down the Cave’s stairs. Bruce was sitting in his usual chair in front of the Batcomputer, looking at what could only be a murder scene judging by the gruesome pictures displayed on the screen. Tim came to a stop next to him and waited. 

He got a grunt of acknowledgement after a second. 

He waited a few heartbeats longer. 

Bruce raised his head, sending him a questioning look.

He continued waiting, face completely neutral. 

Barring hurting someone he loved; the most efficient way to get his full attention was to pique his curiosity. How two of Tim's brothers still hadn’t figured that out when most of the man's rogues had was a complete mystery to him. 

His father figure turned around. 

_‘ I've got to try that trick.’_ Jason's tone was slightly admiring. 

“Tim?” 

He gave him one of the bats – getting another questioning look in return– and turned around, walking deeper into the Cave. After a second of hesitation and a last look at the computer's screen, Bruce followed. 

“I've been thinking– ” he ignored Jason's obligatory sarcastic comment and continued “– about the argument I overheard the other day. ”

They stopped near the case that held Jason's old uniform.

Bruce's face darkened. 

_‘ What the fuck are you doing? ’_

Tim continued ignoring both their reactions and plowed through. 

“ And I'd like to tell you something.”

The bat in Bruce’s hand was deliberately placed on the ground and the man crossed his arms. 

When he spoke, his tone was detached and icier than the north pole. 

“Stay out of this.” 

_‘You better stop right now, Replacement. ’_ and that was his dangerous voice, too.

He was perfectly aware he was going too far. Bulldozing through well-established limits. But actual progress often required risky gambles and sacrifices. 

And Jason’s now complete and utter silence in his head was another proof that he was doing the right thing. They had talked about this. He knew he could stop Tim any time he wanted, and yet, he wasn’t. 

Tim had always been terrible at resisting the urge to help people. 

He was going to lay some truths down and it was probably going to hurt for everyone. Particularly if he failed to make Bruce see.

And he was possibly risking his relationship with his father figure in the process.

He shook his head slowly, perfectly composed.

“No, I won’t. This is not an ultimatum. I am not trying to manipulate or emotionally blackmail you in destroying it. In the end, it's your choice, no matter what my opinion on the subject is. But you're not the only one affected by it. I'm trying to help the both of you. By keeping this up, you're hurting him, again and again and again. And for what? ”

He only had one shot at this. The man was currently allowing him to present his argument, but once he was done, Bruce's walls would be firmly up and no force of nature would be able to make him listen again. The only reason he even got a chance was because Bruce cared about him.

And he didn’t want to imagine Jason’s reaction if he failed. 

Tim kept his voice perfectly calm and even as he continued trying to reason the other man.

“I get that this was incredibly important to you, Bruce. I was there. For all of it. I get that at one point, it became part of the reason you fought and got back up. But to Jason, this–” he pointed at the case “– is just proof that you'd rather have a good little soldier than have him back. He’s never going to fully come back if he thinks you don’t care about him.” 

Bruce's face was set in stone, his arms still crossed. Tim took a deep breath. 

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Is it worth it? I get that sometimes you need –” to torture yourself “– the reminder, but don’t you think we have enough memorials or reasons to fight, already? Better reminders that we can fail? I have my own list of people I couldn’t save. The person this honoured is back. His return doesn’t erase what happened, and he’s different, yes. He screwed up plenty. But it's him. From where I'm standing, the only thing _this_ is doing nowadays is driving him away and hurting the both of you. ”

He picked the discarded baseball bat back up and offered it again to Bruce. 

“So, I’m only asking you to think about one thing. After weighing the pros and cons, do you really need it that much? ”

There was a long moment of silence Bruce spent staring at the case. Then he turned back to Tim, gaze revealing nothing. 

When he finally spoke, Jason’s voice was bitter and defeated. 

_‘You're wasting your time, Tim.’_

Tim stubbornly clenched his jaw and stayed right where he was, offering Bruce the choice.

 _‘ It's fine. He's not going to change his mind.’_ A short, hoarse laugh _‘I don't know what I expected, really.’_

He lifted his head a bit higher, pointedly ignoring Jason, staring Batman down. Come on, come on, come on....

Bruce snatched the bat from Tim's hand and whirled around, hitting the case violently, breathing hard. Spider-web like cracks appeared on its surface.

Tim could have fainted from the rush of pure relief that coursed through his veins. He grabbed the other bat in one hand and retreated, forcing Jason to switch with him. 

His vision blurred.

Jason raised his arms and swung as hard as he could. He let his weapon drop back down on the ground as the case cracked a bit more under the blow. 

Bruce hit it once more and it shattered completely. 

For a second, they both stood there, panting. Staring at the shards in bewilderment. 

Jason broke the silence, shock colouring his voice. 

“You actually did it. ” 

Bruce turned towards him, composed once more.

“I guess I needed someone to remind me what my prime concern should be.” 

“So a Robin? ” 

He got a slight smile in answer. One of his real ones, not one of the bright, vapid ones of the billionaire or the dark, menacing ones of the vigilante. 

It tore through his chest like a bullet.

“But, I– Why couldn’t Jason convince you, then? ” his voice had a small, fragile note to it. 

_‘No, no, don’t do that! This was supposed to help! He destroyed it for you. ’_

Bruce held his gaze.

“Maybe he could have. We never talked about it.” His first instinct was to answer that they had. Except they really hadn’t, had they? He'd stormed out of there, instead. “ And I never realised just how much it–” he cut himself off. “– You know I value your insight. And you always knew how to lay down facts to make your point strike home. ” 

He snorted almost against his will at the godawful pun, vision growing blurrier and blurrier as each word that came out of Bruce's mouth helped relax the painful knot in his chest a little more. He shut his eyes tightly in mock disgust to keep him from noticing.

“That was awful.” 

Was he even talking about the pun?

 _‘You don’t have any room to talk’_ Tim sounded happy enough with the direction the discussion was taking. 

“Tim? Never do this again. ” 

Despite, wonder of wonders, agreeing with Bruce, he felt the sudden need to defend the kid. 

“It helped, though. ” 

“It helped a lot.” Bruce nodded. “But you shouldn’t have been in the kind of situation where you needed to take care of me in the first place. It is not your responsibility. ” 

_‘A simple thank you would be nice, once in a while. ’_ he still didn’t sound that irritated. 

Jason had to give it to him, their family would probably be a crumbling ruin without him. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud. It would feel too much like admitting failure.

He took a step forward. Then another. 

Then, before he could second guess himself, he moved and wrapped his arms around Bruce.

 _‘When I said it would mean the world to him if you were the one to initiate something like a hug, I meant if he actually knew you were the one to start it.’_ and now Tim sounded like he was failing at scowling again. 

He smirked, the smile a little broken around the edges. 

“It’s a start. ” 

Bruce made a contemplative noise as his arms came up and tightly returned the hug.

“Oh, and Tim? ” 

Jason didn’t immediately react, mind still trying to come to terms with what had just happened. 

_‘That’s us, idiot. ’_

“Yes? ” 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you taking that cube out of the Cave. ” 

Why did Bruce always have to have the last word? 

 

–––––––

 

Later that night found the both of them crouching behind a stack of crates as a veritable downpour of bullets pierced the air around their hiding spot. 

“ I told you this was a terrible idea!” Tim yelled over the ruckus. 

_‘And I agreed, so don't put this on me !’_

The top crate began wobbling and splintering dangerously over their head, giving way under the heavy fire. 

Tim sprang forward, keeping as low as he could. 

Tuck. Roll. Keep his head covered. Make it to the next cover.

He felt a bullet hit his body armour, stealing the breath from his lungs.

That was going to bruise.

Better than the alternative. 

They made it to another stack, heart pounding. 

“Plan? ” he asked breathlessly. 

_‘Survive?’_

So helpful. How he'd managed as a vigilante without his brother’s insight he'd never know. 

Tim put his mind to work, visually scanning the docks. What could he use? 

With the resources given to him, he could potentially start a gang war and get Penguin involved. He'd just have to make them shoot enough at the right crates. 

But he was a good person and not supposed to do that kind of things. He pushed the stray thought away. 

Drugs spilling everywhere was a terrible idea, anyway. Batman wouldn’t approve. 

Ah, there! If he could just get to there without being shot, then he could– one of the goons covered his right side more– another said he hated Killer Croc–

He sprang forward again, plan firmly in mind. 

Tuck. Roll. Cover. 

Jump. Cover. 

Drop. Batarang. Cover.

Just two more moves, then he'd be where he needed to be. 

Before he could put his plan in action, however, Nightwing somersaulted down from a nearby roof, pure grace lacing every move, and kicked a thug in the head, straightening up and finishing with a little showy bow, escrima sticks already out in each hand. 

“Gentlemen. ” his tone was jovial. Another thug got zapped and dropped.

Tim grinned. 

“If you could kindly stop shooting at Red, here, I'd really appreciate it. ” Kick to the gut, chokehold. “No? ” pout. “ Why do none of you guys ever want to see me happy? ” 

“Go fuck yourself on a rusty knife.”

 _‘That’s the best he could come up with? ’_ Jason piped up, having stayed silent for as long as Tim had needed to concentrate. 

He went to join the fight. 

“Rude. ” Nightwing jabbed the speaker in the throat, pout more pronounced. His face brightened when he saw Tim approaching. “Hi, Red! ” 

Robin dropped on the back of a thug trying to sneak up on Nightwing, viciously stabbing them in the arm with a batarang. 

“Robin!” Nightwing admonished over the scream and resulting flying spray of bullets, not even bothering to turn around as he blocked a guy's incoming fist. 

Robin knocked his victim out, responding evenly. 

“He shall be fine, Nightwing. ” he turned to nod at Tim. “Red Robin. Once more in dire need of rescuing, I see. ” 

He stole the Demon Brat's new opponent out of spite, knocking her out before Robin could. Damian bristled, glaring at him under the mask. Tim tackled him to ground, doing his best to cushion his head -he was a professional and didn’t let petty fights interfere with his work– as bullets flew where they stood a second ago.

“I had a plan, you brat. ” he hissed. 

They got up, Tim making sure to dig his knee in Damian's stomach in the process, and re-joined the fight once more. 

Barely a few minutes later, Batman dropped from the sky, Black Bat following closely behind.

The last standing thug put his weapon down. He raised his hands over his head. 

_‘Wise guy’_

Batman tilted his head to the side, fixing him with the unsettling blank gaze of the cowl's lenses. 

The thug snorted. 

“Hey, I ain’t crazy. It was bad enough when the first Kidnapped Wonder here joined in, but I sure as hell ain’t fighting all of you. ” 

Batman threw handcuffs in his direction. He put them on and calmly sat on the ground near his groaning colleagues. Robin went to check the restraints were secure. 

“Red Robin. Report.”

Nightwing walked over to Tim, casually slinging an arm over his shoulders. 

Tim straightened. 

“Not much to report, Batman. I went to patrol the agreed upon area and stumbled onto them. ” 

_‘Because you were exhausted and distracted by your lack of sleep. Why don’t you tell him that. ’_

Jason had already made his disapproval of his decision clear several times over the course of the night. Tim opened his mouth to answer before remembering he was literally surrounded by people who didn’t know. 

Black Bat cocked her head to the side. 

_‘Crap’_

A silvery glint on a nearby roof caught his attention. He didn’t even have the time to wonder about it before Jason reacted. 

_‘SNIPER!’_

Tim was suddenly pulled back as he took over.

Jason snatched a gun off the ground, aimed and shot. It hit the guy twice. Once in each shoulder, making shooting back impossible.

He only realised what he'd done once he lowered the gun and had the entire family staring at him. 

“That was one hell of a shot!” Wise Thug piped up, admiring, really not helping the situation.

He put the gun down distastefully, trying his best to imitate Tim “Busted” expression. Not that difficult given he was wearing Tim's face and if they didn’t play this very carefully they’d be found out. 

He looked at Bruce, composing his face into something apologetic. 

“He was going to shoot Nightwing.” 

Bruce gave a single, curt nod, but did not reprimand Tim. He clearly hated what had just happened, however. Well, that was why Jason had chosen guns after all. 

Not busted ? 

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?! ”

Eeer.

“ Red Hood taught me. ” 

_‘ And now I'll have to learn it, won’t I? Thanks, Jason. ’_

“He did? ” 

Dick looked an interesting mix of slightly jealous and happy. Mostly happy. Jason would never understand that guy. He thought corrupting Baby Brothers would be reprimand-worthy or at the very least frowned upon. Apparently not. 

Cass' head was turned towards them again, considering. He sent her a pleading look. 

“We’ll deal with this matter later. Black Bat, Robin, with me. Hostage situation in the Fashion District. Red Robin, Nightwing, you're taking over patrolling. ” 

Cass nodded, darting to Jason and bopping him on the nose once in fond reprimand before vanishing into the night. 

Partially busted. His sister was awesome. 

“Sure thing, Boss!” Dick gave a jaunty salute, arm settling back on their shoulders. 

Jason and Tim switched again.

Dick began leading them away. “Ready to show them, Red? ” 

Tim grinned up at his big brother. Having Dick to himself for more than ten minutes at a time had grown very rare as of late. He missed it. 

“What about me? ” the thug asked as they disappeared.

“You can wait for the police. ” Dick called back. 

 

–––––––

 

 _‘ How are you even still alive.’_

Tim grumpily took a sip of his cold coffee as the person in front of his desk droned on and on about a new technological wonder or another they were trying to get him to sign on. 

_‘Stop trying to ignore me. We've slept about half an hour in the last seventy-seven. I’m pretty sure this count as a form of torture.’_

No blessed elixir of life touched his lips. He stared down desolately at the empty bottom of his mug. It was stained with brown residues. One looked like a tiny heart.

It was cute in a really sad way.

And the employee kept talking. 

_‘ You work too much. Even by Bat-standards.’_

He was nothing like Bruce. For one, he was actually able to ignore Jason Todd. And he knew how to deal with feelings. 

His laptop made yet another ding sound as it received more emails. 

Tim tried to concentrate on what his employee was saying. 

_‘ We are going to take a break and I'm going to get some water and food into you. Even if I have to call Alfred to do it. You have the unhealthiest lifestyle I've ever seen.’_

Jason could be such a mother hen. Tim had been taking care of himself since his seventh birthday and he was perfectly fine. He just needed to finish a couple of things at the office, work on translating the cube, go on patrol, and then he could eat some food and get some sleep. At least five whole hours of it. 

As soon as this meeting ended.

He'd even find time for another cup of coffee. Because coffee was wonderful. Tim loved coffee. Tim really craved some right now.

Maybe Jason would be less grumpy if he drank more coffee. 

Now that he thought about it, not liking coffee was one of the many things that were wrong with Damian. Probably even the reason their feud was still going on.

Tim nodded to himself.

 _‘Last chance to stop and solve this peacefully.’_

Uh-oh. That tone of voice never brought anything good with it.

Tim felt some dread creep in, but stayed firm. His work was important and he needed to concentrate. And while they'd made good progress on translating the cube and coming up with a solution to their cohabitation problem in the last few days, they still had a long way to go. 

_‘ Fine, be like that. Remember, I gave you a chance. Don’t come crying to me when you regret not taking it. ’_

He held his head up high. Red Robin didn’t give in to blackmail or to threats. 

Jason began obnoxiously belting out the raunchiest, rudest drinking song Tim had ever heard in his life. 

At the top of his metaphorical lungs. 

Directly in his brain. 

Tim began hating him with the kind of hate that led people to commit bloody fratricide on a perfect summer day at a nice grandma's birthday party. Damian was fast climbing the favourite sibling scale. 

He got through four of them, each somehow worse than the one preceding it before Tim gave up, slamming his head down on the desk and begging him to stop, to the great surprise of the WE employee. 

_‘You’re way too easy to mess with. ’_ he sounded smug, adding insult to injury. 

Tim closed his eyes and prayed that Jason and Steph never decided to exchange notes on how to gang up on him. He didn’t think he'd survive the experience.

Now that his focus had been broken, all he could think about was how surprisingly soft this desk was. He turned his head, trying to find a more comfortable position and allowed his eyes to close, ignoring Jason's tired mutter of “Finally.”. 

 

–––––––

 

Opening his eyes again proved to be a challenge. They were gritty and his head was pounding. 

This was why Tim didn’t like sleeping that much. Except on a few special occasions, you always woke up feeling so much worse than you'd been going to sleep. 

And you lost so much time. Time you already didn’t have a lot of when you were a vigilante.

He was on one of the Manor's living room's couch. He sat up and proceeded to spend five minutes staring blankly at the wall, clutching his blanket close, mind still trying to process the world. 

Caffeine. He needed caffeine. 

If he could just find the energy to get off the couch. 

_‘Go back to sleep, Tim. ’_ Jason’s very sleepy voice filled his mind. 

Tim got up, just to spite him, clutching his blanket even closer around his shoulders. It felt a bit like his cape. He could hear Jason sighing as he began trudging tiredly to the kitchen, feet dragging on the beautiful wooden floor of Wayne Manor. 

_‘ We just passed by Bruce.’_

Had they? Some things just didn’t register before the second cup. He shuffled back around. 

They had. He robotically droned out a greeting. 

Which way was the kitchen again? 

A deep, pleasant chuckle filled the hallway and a hand ruffled through his hair before settling on his shoulder, guiding him down the hallway. Tim blinked. 

They were in his room. 

He blinked again. The hand was prying his cape away and pulling a heavy blanket over him instead. 

“Bruuuuce. No. I'm up. ” 

_‘No we really aren’t.’_

Just because Jason was tired and trying to drag Tim down with him didn’t mean he had to be too. He sat back up, blinking the last cobwebs away from his mind. 

“Sleep, Tim. ” 

Except he was awake now, though in complete caffeine withdrawal. He didn’t think he could go back to sleep any time soon. He blinked owlishly at Bruce, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking resigned. 

“I slept enough! And deeply. ” he still looked sceptical, so Tim used the one true and tried method to convincing Bruce Wayne of anything: solid evidence “Deeply enough for Dick to slip a blanket around me without waking me up!” 

He now had a small smile playing at his lips. Why? 

_‘That wasn’t Dick. ’_ Jason's voice sounded fond. 

That he knew about it meant whoever had given him the blanket had done so while Jason was still mostly awake. 

He'd been as tired as Tim, so it had to have happened soon after him passing out. Either Jason had driven them back to the Manor or someone had found them at the office. 

He doubted his brother would have left them to sleep in the open like that. Too vulnerable. Which gave him a rough timeline of yesterday around 18.00. if you factored in the journey back to the Manor.

Where had everyone been? 

If Bruce had been the one to find him asleep in the living room, he'd just have taken him to his room. Cass and Steph had planned to spend the evening with Barbara, pre-patrol. Alfred usually was preparing dinner around then and didn’t tend to leave the kitchen when he did as some dishes required a lot of attention and fine work. 

That left... Damian? 

Bruce stood up. 

“I’ll leave you to get dressed, then. Breakfast's in twenty minutes. ” 

Tim nodded in return. 

The door closed.

That only left one question unanswered.

“Why the couch and not my bed ? ” he asked the now empty room.

 _‘Authenticity’_

... Fair. 

Tim showered, dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. 

 

–––––––

 

Another three days binge of no sleep later and Jason was done. Done. 

He'd said it before and would say it again, this counted as a form of torture. 

When this mess was dealt with, he'd force Tim to take a holiday. Somewhere calm. 

Better yet, he'd tell on him. What was it with these kids and not taking care of themselves? 

How did the others not know about this ? 

_‘He says, casually ignoring the fact that he didn’t know about it either before now. ’_ said Tim, petulantly. 

Jason glared at the ceiling. 

_‘Besides, you're an hypocrite. You had an open wound you hadn’t taken care of.’_

“ I was going to. And it was barely a wound. ”

_‘It needed stitches! ’_

“Barely ten. That's, like, a bad paper cut. ” 

He could feel Tim glaring. 

So, maybe he was full of shit and he knew it. Didn’t mean the kid's sleep habits were healthy or that Jason was not going to do anything about them. 

_‘ I'm perfectly fine. I've been doing this for years.’_

Okay, no, he was done.

He walked to Bruce's study and knocked on the door, doing his best to fail at imitating Tim's body language. 

_‘What are you doing ? ’_

“Taking drastic measures.” 

They waited for a beat in relative silence -Tim only moderately freaking out – before a faint “Come in.” sounded from the other side of the door. 

Jason entered the room and closed the door behind him. Bruce was seated at his desk, a stack of papers spread out in front of him and an elegant pen in his hand.

He had leaned back in his chair and pushed a few errand strands of hair out of his eyes at Jason's entrance. The cosy lighting of the room made him look years younger.

“Tim? ” 

“ Bruce. ” He used every drama lesson he'd ever taken in school and imitated Tim's usual deer in the headlight look. 

_‘ I hate you so much. ’_

He reminded himself that smirking now would blow his cover. 

“I need a day off. ” 

_‘ No! Jay don't–’_

Bruce carefully put his pen down and casually righted a small trinket on his desk, the movement unremarkable for anyone who didn’t know what the trinket was. 

_‘ -do that.’_

Jason stared as he let Tim regain control. 

Tim immediately tried to salvage the situation. 

“Not a ‘day off’ day off. I'll still be doing most the usual stuff. Just a day out of Gotham?” 

_‘ Did he just– did he just pull the intruder alert on us? ’_

A airheaded, happy grin spread on Bruce's face. He got up and walked around the desk. 

Tim wanted to groan in defeat. 

“Sure, Timmy! ” a paternal pat on the cheek “ You know you can always ask me for anything ! ” 

_‘He actually pulled the intruder alert. Because you asked for a day off. Not because you shot a guy. ’_

“Thanks, Bruce” he sighed, defeated. He was almost sure he was going to mysteriously feel light headed in the next few minutes. Then wake up tied to a chair. 

Or maybe Bruce would choose the long way around and just put him under surveillance until he found what he believed was the cause of the problem. 

(Jason. Jason was the cause of at least sixty percent of his problems. )

Not the most likely option given that his father-figure had already noticed him acting differently then usual a few times over the past week. And that they’d been on patrol together during some of the incidents. 

Bruce already knew that whoever was supposed be impersonating Tim knew their secret identities. He would need to do a battery of tests before trusting Tim again. 

In Bruce's mind, he was both a flight risk, and a potential danger for the entire family.

Drugged it probably was. 

_‘ I have no words. ’_

Of course, he could always try to prevent it, since he knew it was going to happen. But then, he'd have to fight and that would just decrease the likelihood of being trusted. 

They were past the point of arguing. 

_‘No, really. This is just plain sad.’_

“Would you shut up! ” Tim moaned. 

Bruce's vacant gaze settled back on his face. 

“But I didn’t say anything ? ” he chirped. 

_‘ There's so much that's wrong with Batman chirping.’_

Tim buried his face in his hands and just allowed himself to be knocked out. 

 

–––––––

 

He woke up tied to one of the Cave's medical cots with Nightwing masked face staring down at him. His expression was unforgiving. 

“Hi Dick. ”

A cold smile.

“ And what am I supposed to call you? ” 

_‘ Daaaamn. I knew Big Bird was more than capable of giving the cold shoulder, but I never thought I'd see him do it to somebody else. Especially not to you. ’_

Jason apparently also was awake. 

As his headache slowly receded and the Cave came a bit more into focus, he could see the rest of the family gathered in a loose circle around them. A loose, worried, really intimidating circle. 

Tim regretted everything. Every single thing.

“This is all your fault, you know ! So if you could just can it for about two minutes ?! ” 

_‘My fault ?! I was trying to help! ’_

Nightwing's expression grew even harder. At his side, Robin tensed slightly. 

“Excuse me? ” 

Tim sighed. 

“Not you. Jason. ” 

And now the other man was just downright incredulous. See, this was exactly why Tim hadn’t wanted to tell anyone in the first place. And the simultaneous responses from his brothers really weren’t helping his headache.

“Jason? ” 

_‘Way to throw me under the bus here, Timmers. ’_

No. He did not have to deal with this. They could just manage without him for once. He was pretty sure Jason had done this on purpose, too. 

He was slightly relieved one of them had, if he was being one hundred percent honest. Sharing a head was tiring and now they could actually ask for help. 

But he was still mostly angry at the other for not consulting him on the matter first. 

“Oh, for the love of– you know what ? I’m done. You can just ask him directly. ” 

They switched. Jason blinked rapidly a few times before drawling a greeting. 

“Cass, Alfred.” He nodded in their direction. “ Assembled creeps.” 

Heh. He'd made Bruce twitch while in uniform. Score. 

The way Dick's mouth hung open about a meter to his left also was particularly satisfying.

“Okay, that's unsettling.” 

What, no 'Holy baby brothers, Batman! ' ? Jason was almost disappointed.

Almost. He knew he couldn’t win them all.

“As Tim just tried to tell you, however badly, –” he could just feel the glare said baby brother was sending him. “–we may or may not have had a minor accident. With an magic device. And we’re now sharing brainspaces. Nothing worth worrying over.” 

_‘I wouldn’t call any part of this situation 'minor' ’_

Batman was looming over them, arms crossed. When he spoke, his voice was completely even, making it clear just how much he was humouring them for the time being.

“ And I suppose we just have to believe you. No matter that you tried to hide it for at least a week and that this could just be another ploy to get us to trust you. ” 

Well well well, somebody just spent the last however long doing a mental review of all the times Tim had acted weird recently. 

Which really had to be exhausting. How he'd come to the deduce the right timeframe, Jason wasn’t sure. 

_‘Fuck you, Jason.’_

Oh, had he said that out loud? Oops. 

_‘You're perfectly aware of what you're doing. ’_

He smirked. At least Tim had stopped freaking out. 

Cass stepped forward, putting a small hand on Bruce's forearm, mindful of the gauntlet’s spikes. 

“They talk... correctly. ” She paused to shake her head slightly at Bruce's questioning glance and clarified. “Not your talking. Mine. ” 

Jason shrugged. 

“To be honest, Tim fully expects you not to trust us. ” 

_‘If I had to guess, Martian Manhunter's on his way here and B's already done every single test he possibly could.’_ , Tim agreed. 

The cowl's lenses were still evenly trained on them. 

“And what do you think ? ” 

“ If I had a dollar every time you didn’t trust me, I'd be about as rich as you. What do _you_ think ? ” 

Bruce didn’t visibly relax, but some of the thick cloud of tension seemed to dissipate from the Cave. 

“Then I trust neither of you will have any problem answering a few questions. ” He glanced around at the circle of vigilantes. “ There's no need for all of us to be present. ” 

Dick immediately bristled at being dismissed. 

“I’m not leaving. ” 

“You and Robin are needed on patrol tonight. ” 

They stared each other down, an entire silent conversation happening in the span of a minute. Finally, Dick nodded. 

“Fine. For now. Come on, Robin. ” 

As Nightwing left, Damian put a hand on Tim’s shoulder and looked at them, gaze holding a solemn intensity. 

“Todd. If that is truly you, I would like to express my most sincere sympathy to you in these trying times. Know that I realise the hardships you're going through. ” 

He nodded once and turned around, Titus trailing after him. 

Jason tried to politely refrain from laughing as a cold voice rang through his mind.

_‘ I'm going to need you to untie us. Oh, and an alibi. I'll definitely be needing that too. ’_

He failed. 

On the plus side, Bruce looked less worried and more just tired, now. 

 

–––––––

 

In the end, separating them was frustratingly –when you considered how many hours they'd been working on it– easy now that they could call allies like Zatanna and Constantine. 

They got a thorough lecture on needlessly endangering themselves –which, if you asked Jason, was a bit rich coming from a man that dressed in a Bat costume and jumped off buildings every night. 

Never mind that they did the exact same thing, they’d learned from his example, so technically it was still his fault. 

Then they got an Alfred-lecture on the same subject and Jason really had nothing to say to that. 

Getting his own body back was a relief, he wasn’t going to lie. 

The week had been an eye-opening experience. 

He sat up on the medical cot as Bruce walked back in the Cave, folder in hand, a determined look on his face. Tim was passed out on the cot next to him, so Jason kept his voice low. 

The last thing they wanted to do was to wake him up. 

“I’m taking Tim on a vacation” he announced “ Kid works way too much.”

Bruce didn’t contradict him. It was probably as much of an agreement as he was ever going to get, so he took it. 

The back of a hand pressed lightly on Jason’s forehead. He stared.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re both under observation. Zatanna asked to be alerted at the first sign of a fever. ” 

“We’re fine.” 

Bruce made a very sceptical noise, but didn’t stop Jason from standing up. He looked curiously at the folder in Bruce’s hand. 

“What’s in there? ”

“Paperwork. I had it drawn a week ago. They're different new identities you could take. Or–” he hesitated. Visibly composed himself. “ Or we could simply go with the most popular theory. ”

Jason swallowed. 

“Could I–” he licked his lips nervously. “– think about it? For a few days? ” 

Something in the set of Bruce's shoulders relaxed. He nodded. 

“Of course. It's a big decision to make. ”

His expression made Jason think back on what Tim had said, that first day.

“Hey, B? ” 

“Yes? ” 

He took two steps forward, and snaked his arms around Bruce’s chest in an awkward parody of a hug. 

“Thanks. For...you know.” 

Bruce completely froze up for a few seconds. Then one of his arms found its way to the back of Jason's head as the other crushed him closer to his chest. 

“Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are! Please tell me what you thought and have a lovely rest of the day ! :) 
> 
> See you!


End file.
